Quicksilver
by Ghost Whisper
Summary: It is as though her mind is quicksilver, tumbling about, the fading light of knowledge nothing more than the tale of a comet – a reflection of something that has moved forward long ago. Scene that might have taken place at the world with no feather. SxS


**AN**: Just a random little idea that popped into my head, regarding a scene that could have occurred during the beginning of Volume 4 of the manga, while in the world with no feather. I suppose it's too long to be called a drabble…but we'll call it an epic drabble:D

I realize the ending might seem a little abrupt, but after reading Sakura's attempt at remembering in Volume 5, it seems to fit with how things work in canon. Hopefully, this follows the same idea as well.

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I'm going to meet him…

This one who makes my heart ache with an unknown feeling…

Steps barely breaking the light misting of dew on the grass, she seems to float across it, ethereal as the morning mist in the air, and just as untouchable. Transient, and wraithlike, the world is far away at this moment. Or it that her memories? For they, more then her, are untouchable. A quiet laugh rings in the back of her mind, like a conversation in the next room where she has heard her name, and nothing more. There's something she's missing, but she can't grasp it.

And so, she is walking, light glances lingering on the lapping water of the lake next to her, as she pauses to look into the water. No reflection there – the water is rocking back and forth, frothing gently. The waves break up any image caught within the liquid, sending bits of color and light skittering across the surface. Shivering slightly, she regrets leaving the heavy jacket that had been draped across her when she'd woken up at the foot of the tree. Her dress was made for warmer climes then these – even if mornings in the desert had a tendency to be chilly also.

She pauses, turning her head for a moment, as though hearing a voice calling out to her.

Sakura.

Her name again; that whisper when nothing else in the world makes sense. Nothing but her name. Something within her wishes to hear a different name – to call it out, and run laughing through the forest around her. There's nothing there though, and she wonders if it might be nothing more than a deception of her mind – a longing for the memories she's lost, rather than any true knowledge.

Why can't she reach that knowledge? It is as though her mind is quicksilver, tumbling about, the fading light of knowledge nothing more than the tale of a comet – a reflection of something that has moved forward long ago.

She kneels in front of the lake, looking closely into the white froth of bubbles, and then leaning further into it. If she just reaches a little more, can she catch it? Will she find that elusive knowledge that is evading her like a capricious kitten? Will it somehow form by the force of her will, in the water below?

Pondering, and sighing at her lack of success, she can't help but press the issue to herself. Syaoran… She remembers waking up and seeing him; his determination to help her, no matter the danger or difficulty. The thought brings a smile to her face, as though she has received a precious gift – and she is sure that she has, in a way. It makes her feel sad though, because all expressions of thanks that she can give him will be missing something. Missing knowledge. He must have been important to her…for him to do all this. Why go to such lengths for a stranger? What was their relationship?

I'm going to find my memories…

Her eyes squint shut, and a small humming sound escapes her throat as she searches, diving through the few images that remain to her; picking them apart detail by detail. There's something wrong with them – something she should know, if only she could decide why and what.

She turns her face up to the sun, feeling it warm on her face, and seeing bright orange behind closed eyelids. Fingers dig into the grass, pushing past plants and further into the dirt grounding them. It grinds itself under her fingernails, and she ignores that small reminder of the real world in favor of the mental one she has lost herself in.

Too late, she realizes that her knee has pushed its way to deeply into the mud at the edge of the water, and has slipped fully into the chill liquid. To late, she realizes that she had begun leaning forward, in imitation of her mental searching's. This part of the water's edge is not a gradually receding of land into water, but a sharp drop, as though the beach has been scooped away. The air rushes past her, as though parting ways in deference as her body makes its way to the water, time passing languorously slow to her startled eyes.

"Wha-?"

A stinging shock, and she chokes on the small bit of water that's rushed into her mouth and down her throat. Bubbles dance up past her face towards the surface of the lake, brushing against skin. Her muscles seize up as she attempts to cough and hold it all back at once, drawing in another mouthful of water. That was a mistake.

What was a mistake?

It's hard to remember now, as she feels her eyes drifting heavily shut, dark blue green water fading to grey-black in her vision.

A sudden jerk at her elbow, and her surroundings change drastically. She's being thrown to the ground, though she can hardly find it within herself to open her eyes yet. The pounding on her back – painfully between her shoulder blades – prompts that, and she finds herself staring down into a world of wet grass.

"Princess Sakura – what were you doing?"

And she gives him weak smile as his hands on her shoulders lift her into a sitting position. Her dress is spread out around her, soaked, and she begins to shiver in the damp morning air.

"I was just – out for a walk, and I slipped." She stares down at her hands, feeling sad that she has made him worry once again. Idly she notices that the dirt has been washed away from under her fingernails with the 'swim' she's just taken.

"Please, be careful next time."

"Thank you," she answers. And pulling herself to her feet, she gives him a searching look. There's still something… but it can wait for now. When the time is right to speak, she'll surely be able to form this unknown thought into words. "I suppose…we should go back, right?"

His eyes turn moody at the comment, but he smiles all the same, and she tries to pretend that she never notices. She wants to keep thinking that he's not being hurt by all of this.

"Of course, Princess," he says, and they turn back to the small campsite that has been set up.

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